Which Way Did She Go
Dank Corridor ---- ::''A narrow corridor, about four feet wide and eight feet high, it runs twenty feet from the northwestern bend that leads to the tower to the eastern bend, deeper into the dungeon. ::''The cobbled stone walls are slick with moisture and twists of root sprawl across the ceiling. ::''Heavy iron doors leading into the cramped cells of the Fastheld dungeon line the corridor. ----- Two guards stand at their place at the beginning of the long corridor that is lined with cells. Footsteps can be heard approaching from the corridor's beginning, the sharp sounds echoing against the damp walls. As the woman draws nearer, her steps become clearer and even begin to sound less sharp. Tomassa's expression is a weary one and she's decidedly rumpled after so many days in the same change of clothing. From Dungeon Cell, Fionnlagh is seated atop the small pile of hay in the corner of his cell, legs slightly apart and one wrist balanced on each knee, head down. A mixture of boredom and quiet thoughtfulness...perhaps sadness as well. The guards draw to attention and nod as the woman passes. They wait until she continues to again relax and continue their vigil. Tomassa's footsteps slow by Fionnlagh's cell, her fingers reaching up to touch the bars on his opened window. "Hello, Kenneth," she murmurs in passing. She continues to the next door, quiet. From Dungeon Cell, Fionnlagh hears that familiar voice, and stirs, shifting up to his feet, his expression momentarily mingling hope and dread. He takes a breath, and then comes to the window, curling a set of fingers about it gently. "Hello, Tomassa. How did it go?" It's a quiet query to match her quiet mood, the Forester shifting as far to the opposite side as possible to gain what view he can of her through the window. The cell next to forester's sits silent, the door slightly ajar. "How did it go?" quietly drifts back to him. "It hasn't gone. Yet." Tomassa stops outside of the other door and lifts a hand to yank back the little window in the thick, iron door. The door swings open with the force of that yanking and the woman pauses, eyeing it. "Where did you move Shardwood?" she calls to the nearest guard. From Dungeon Cell, "It hasn't?" Fionnlagh enquires, brow furrowing, as he leans to try to catch sight of her again. "A guard came earlier...I assumed..." Both of the guards look down the hall at the woman. The taller one rumbles, "We didn't. A Tribunal came a took 'er out earlier. Said he 'ad to git her cleaned up on orders of the Justiciar M'lady." Tomassa's right eyebrow climbs upward. "Orders of the Justiciar?" she repeats. "Was he unaware of the Emperor's pronouncement regarding Shardwood's punishment?" Grasping the center bar in the window, she pushes on it for leverage to shut the door with a *clang* of noise. "I have come to carry out the sentence." From Dungeon Cell, Fionnlagh blinks, listening attentively to the conversation in the hall, very quiet to hear the carry of voices. "I don't know M'lady," comes the rumbling reply. "That is all that 'e told us. We don't know much 'cept that we do not argue with a Tribunal." The Chamberlain's voice is calm as she says, "One of you should advise your commander that the both of you need to be relieved early. We're going to go have a little talk with the Emperor." Tomassa strolls from the door, turning back toward Fionnlagh's and pausing there. "A guard, Kenneth? Did you see him?" From Dungeon Cell, Fionnlagh nods to Tomassa's query, studying her with a slightly perplexed expression. "I did...I suppose it was a Tribunal. That fancy armor...truth be told, I've not seen them before. But it wasn't Blades armor, at the least. He came to get her." A pause, and he adds, "She bade me remember her voice, and said she was resigned to her fate. He didn't bring her to you?" "Yes M'lady," they both reply. Then one asks looking somewhat perplexed, "You wish us to come too?" The other one pipes up his voice higher and squeaky, "There were two other that came by as well M'lady. The ex Chancellor spoke briefly with her and Marshal Nepos came twice. The second time he went right into the cell." "You are both going as soon as you've obtained a relief," Tomassa says somewhat less pleasantly. She looks into the cell at Fionnlagh. "Send someone to find Lucius as well. Have him show himself at the throne room." The woman taps a hand against Kenneth's door. "And unlock this. Kenneth is coming with us." The squeaky one nods, "I will go to the Commander and then find Master Nepos." The other takes the keys from his belt and marches to Fionnlagh's cell. With a rattle he unlocks it. From Dungeon Cell, Fionnlagh steps back from the door when the guard comes to unlock it, waiting till it's opened to step forward and approach Tomassa's side, prepared to follow. "He wasn't bringing her to you then?" He's still catching up, brain working to reorganize all the events against this new information. Tomassa gives Fionnlagh a -look- at his question. She begins to walk away from him in the direction that she came. "No. Why would he do that? You know where I was going to take her," the woman states. Fionnlagh considers this, and purses his lips, nodding finally. "I didn't really think about which way he was taking her, at the time. Didn't know if the Emperor wanted it done before him, or something. Just figured it was her time....she thought so, too." He keeps pace, half talking to her, half thinking out loud. The first guard disappears in a thudding of boots and the other steps back once the door is unlocked. He bows to her, "I will follow as soon as my relief come M'lady." Tomassa shrugs one shoulder. "The Justiciar can have her, if he wants her. I just think there should be more communication between the Emperor and his liege men," she states to the Forester. A nod is given to the remaining guard and she narrows her eyes at him. "Do not linger," the woman advises. "Come, Kenneth." Fionnlagh nods, keeping pace with Tomassa, and glancing at the guard as they pass, before responding to Tomassa. "I suppose chain of command is still settling into place somewhat, as loyalties are checked and such." The one guard moves to his place against the wall and returns his keys to his belt. He's prepped himself to see a corpse. Lucius's face is stoic as he rounds the corner at the Y-intersection, carrying his shield close to his body. He moves quickly towards the occupied cells. Tomassa exhales, irritation warring with fatigue upon her features. She looks up at Lucius with a cool expression. "You and I are going to -talk-," she says to him, still walking down the corridor. "For now, we go see the Emperor." "What do you mean, Chamberlain? Talk about /what/?" The Marshal says with a practiced tongue, his body language following as if he actually has no idea what TOmassa is talking about. Probably been steeling himself for /that/ all day. "Aye, Grace." The Marshal turns about. Soon there is more sound of thudding boots and the first guard returns being followed by two others. He spies Lucius, "Oh there you are. The chamberlain needs to..." He stops and looks at Tomassa, "Er never mind." ::''The group starts making it's way out of the Dungeon..... Tomassa glances back to make sure Fionnlagh's still following, her mouth forming the faintest of smiles for an instant. She eyes the guard and points him in the direction of the exit with the quirk of an eyebrow. Aside, to Lucius, she murmurs, "*Two* visits?" "What two?" Asks Lucius. "One, earlier today." He narrows his eyes a bit, walking along, voice remaining low enough so that only the Chamberlain here's it. Fionnlagh continues along just a half-step behind and to the left of Tomassa, content to listen to the conversation for the moment, unless he's spoken to. The two guards speak briefly to their relief and dutifully fall into step behind the trio. "That's not what I was told," the woman replies in an equally quiet, but chilly tone. Her pace increases, steps growing brisk as if eager to be free of the dungeon. Fionnlagh is content to just keep following and listening, judging the wiser part of the situation to be keeping out of the matter, and following along obediently. "By who were you told this, Grace? It'd help to note. My armor is very distinct, and I do believe that I'd be of the knowledge if I had gone a second time." Replies Lucius casually. Thump, thump go the boots as the guards walk, through the dim hall. Tomassa hooks a thumb toward the guards that bring up the rear without slowing in her steps. "Those two." Lucius asks, eyes narrowing, "Were you two confused in any way? Something like a second visit would be hard to put out of my mind. Maybe too much time spent down in the dungeon?" The taller one shakes his head. "No Sir," he rumbles, "We both saw. You came...then left and' went down the hall an' came back again." He holds up three fingers, "Two visits by my account." Fionnlagh keeps walking, walking, walking. The closer to the fresher air, the more his own steps quicken a little....keeping pace with Tomassa's. The conditions of the dungeon might not be so far different from living in the woods in some respects...he's not as used to comforts as others. But open sky...that's a very different thing. He hasn't seen that in a while. Who knows whether it's light or dark up there? "A second visit would involve leaving the dungeon. That means, it was one visit." Corrects Lucius, apparently a little bit chaffed at the confusion. He shakes his head and grumbles something inaudible. "Don't forget the part about him going -into- the cell," the woman reminds them in a casual tone. Her own steps carry her to the thick iron door. Along the North Wall ----- ::''A well-trodden path leads along the grassy lawn of the revered keep of Fastheld, marking the passage of innumerable footsteps on patrol past the ancient stones the form the north wall of the fortress. ::''Here, the path bends south along the eastern wall and toward the Imperial Residence after stopping at the entrance to the northeastern tower. ::''High above, near the spire of the tower, one can make out two balconies. ---- ::''The group leave the tower and head towards the residence and the waiting throne room.... "Never mind the fact that she was going to get something terrible done to her, by all means? By the Light, am I not allowed to have compassion for a friend?" This is really seeming to get Lucius agitated. The taller guard nods at Tomassa's comment but otherwise stays silent. "Kenneth," Tomassa conversationally asks as her steps turn southward. "Did I ever enter your cell at any point in your incarceration?" Fionn answers Tomassa saying, "No, your Grace." Lucius appears to be even more chaffed than he was a minute ago. "I have no problems with punishment for wrong actions, but I do with brow beating a man like this. Get to to the point, Grace. If I may be frank?" The taller guard looks over at the squeaky one. "Do yah know what all the fuss is about," he asks of him. "You have a prisoner who's not in her cell where the Chamberlain expects....why shouldn't there be fuss?" Fionnlagh asides to the guards, quietly. Though not so quietly as not to be overheard....just attempting not to interrupt the conversation ahead of him. Tomassa's simple answer to Lucius' rhetorical question is a very firm, "*No*." She stalks into the residence, making her way toward the stairs at a purposeful pace. Lucius Nepos follows his charge silently, taking a few deep breaths as he approaches the stairs. He visibly relaxes, armored shoulder lowering down. The taller guard listens to Fionnlagh as realization finally dawns on him. "So the Justicar wasn't 'sposed to take her," he rumbles in a similarly quiet voice. The two follow the woman into the residence. The forester shrugs as the guard speaks, shaking his head slightly. "Isn't mine to say, what he should and shouldn't do. Wasn't what was expected." murmurs the forester quietly, keeping his station somewhere a little behind Tomassa and Lucius, and a little ahead of the guards. Just the well-behaved prisoner in the midst, that's him. And a realization also dawns on Lucius as the Blade in back says to Fionn something overheard. He remains impassive looking, striding up the stairs after Tomassa in his usual body guard position. Tomassa saunters up to the guards outside of the throne room, pausing at the head of her little entourage. "Is the Emperor busy?" she inquires of them. "Or may we have an audience?" A pair of guards trudge up the stairs beind the trio. The taller one speaks to Fionnlagh, "Not good I guess." The smaller looks worried and in his squeaky voice, "Dinna think we'd 'ave to go 'ere today." Fionnlagh leaves the guards to their worrying, coming to a halt behind Tomassa, and turning his gaze on the guards and waiting.. Lucius Nepos also halts behind Tomassa, his right hand at his side. He taps against the plate tassets he wears with a gauntleted finger, idly. A herald steps out of the throne room and notes the people waiting outside. His attention settles on Tomassa. "It is quite late, Lady Chamberlain." "That it is," the woman agrees. "If you are willing to take statements from these witnesses, the audience can wait," Tomassa suggests. She glances sidelong to Fionnlagh. "And this one will need to be returned to the dungeon after his words of witness are stated," she advises. "He has not yet been released to have run of the grounds." Frowning, the herald says, "The Emperor will receive you, but it will be his last order of business for the evening. I recommend that you keep it as brief as possible." He steps aside and gestures toward the doors. Tomassa inclines her head in both thanks and agreement, clasping her hands behind her back to stroll into the throne room. Lucius Nepos stares impassively at the back of Tomassa's head. Yup. When the Herald moves out of the way Lucius follows her in. Fionnlagh heads into Throne Room. Throne Room ---- ::''The high ceilings of this gray stone chamber are supported by rows of massive columns along an aisle that features a purple carpet that extends from the arched entrance to the Emperor's throne room and ends at the first step of the dais that holds the gleaming majesty of the Imperial throne - a chair of gold, armrests encrusted in jewels, back and seat cushioned with stuffed pillows covered with crimson velvet. ::''Torches flicker in stanchions attached to the columns. The fluttering wings and twitter of birds can occasionally be heard in the shadows overhead, where the fowl have nested after coming into the estate through one of the balconies or the courtyard. ::'The seal of Fastheld - a crown within a dark, unbroken circle - is on the tapestry that hangs behind and above the throne of Talus Kahar. ---- The herald follows the newcomers into the throne room and announces their arrival. Zolor Zahir glances through the torch-flickered shadows toward the trio and beckons Tomassa closer to the dais. Talk about being in here way too often lately. Lucius enter the throne room, gauntleted hand opening and closing. His eyes pass from Tribunal soldier to soldier, noting the particulars of each of them. He of course follows Tomassa. Obediently, Tomassa moves up the room's center, her steps drawing her closer to the Emperor. "My liege," she offers with an inclination of her head. "Forgive the intrusion." The two guards follow, masking their nervousness with forced looks of neutrality. Fionnlagh just follows along behind Tomassa and Lucius, looking ahead briefly to check for obstacles he might trip over, and identify the new Emperor upon the throne. He keeps silent, just trying to stay a bit ahead of the two guards and a bit behind the leaders. Once Tomassa stops, he stops behind, and kneels quietly. Obeisance is rarely a bad choice in front of thrones. It's a healthy encourager of attachments of heads to torsos. Zolor Zahir lifts his eyebrows, but nods at Tomassa. His gaze shifts toward Fionnlagh and then back to the chamberlain. "So. Another one for the loyalty pact?" One of the heralds shuffles over to grab a parchment scroll and a tray bearing an inkwell and quill. Lucius Nepos stops his walking as per usual, in the middle of the room. He doesn't have any testimony to spill to Zolor that he knows about, so he offers a bow from afar, and watches. "Aye, Your Majesty," the rumpled Chamberlain admits. While her body is clean, her clothes are showing signs of the repetitive wear they have been getting. "As well as to ask a question." Fionnlagh just stays in his spot, glancing aside at the decor briefly, but returning his gaze to the Emperor and Chamberlain once speaking begins. "Ask your question, then," the Emperor says to Tomassa. "Then we will resolve the matter of the pact for the prisoner." Both guards drop to their knees before returning to stand stiffly at attention, eyes looking straight ahead. "Did you know the Justiciar removed Shardwood from the dungeons?" Tomassa simply inquires. Her hands are loosely clasped behind her back. "When I went to fetch her, I found her cell empty and the door ajar." Lucius Nepos listens to the proceedings carefully but remains as stony as an ancient statue. Fionnlagh just works on growing roots into that floor where he kneels, patiently waiting till matters concern him. The taller guard starts to nod at Tomassa's comment, catches himself and grows still again. < "Did he?" Zolor inquires, scratching his chin. "Intriguing." He sighs and shakes his head. "Unfortunate. I had so wanted to hear her sanctimonious blathering in the absence of her tongue." His mouth starts flapping up and down and he utters: "Yuh ah uh vewwy bah mah, Empahwah Zaeeah!" Tomassa's lips quirk and she nods. "These two guards," she gestures toward them with one hand after unclasping it from its mate. "Said a Tribunal took her away. Fionnlagh, the kneeling prisoner, also bore witness. So, if you still desire the task to be finished, you may wish to speak to the Justiciar." Fionnlagh keeps earning that kneeling prisoner name, remaining rooted to his spot. Not exactly the situation he expected those long hours of training in patience and holding still to find themselves useful. Trying not to get killed as opposed to trying to kill something. But one uses what one has. "And so I shall," the Emperor replies. He then turns his attention to Fionnlagh. "You were Alieron Mikin's man, not so long ago." Fionnlagh looks up as he's spoken too, inclining his head in confirmation. "I was, your majesty...though it seems far longer ago than it is." At the Emperor's little joke, Lucius's sole response is for hsi eyebrows to arch upwards quizically. He doesn't smile or frown or show any other sort of emotion, though. The smaller of the two guards quirks a brow at the Emperor's joke but quickly looks away again. His cheeks redden as he tenses. "I had little use for Alieron Mikin," Zolor says, sniffing haughtily. "I have even less use for his layabout brother. In fact, I can think of little good that comes from having *any* Mikin around. But you're a commoner and can't help the company you keep sometimes, and there's the fact the Chamberlain put in a good word for you, so it might be hasty for me to see you decapitated just now. Agreed?" "If I may, my liege, I shall speak for the man. When I went to arrest Alieron for treason, this forester took up his bow to aid -me- not the Mikin," Tomassa quietly defends. Her posture grows a bit taller and straighter. Zolor Zahir lifts his eyebrows. "Two good words. The chamberlain seems to have no shortage of praise for you." Fionnlagh inclines his head deeply to the Emperor, offering quietly. "I should be pleased to find my head still attached, Your Majesty. The Cont...The Chamberlain is most kind. I did take her part, as she has said...and help save the life of another of your kin as well, once upon a time." The Emperor sighs. "The headsman is having *no* amusement this week. Claims his arms are atrophied from lack of exercise." He motions the herald to approach Fionnlagh with the parchment and tray. "Sign the pact. It states that you swear fealty to the Crown and that you forfeit life and lands should you act against my interests. Once you've signed, you will be the chamberlain's to do with as she sees fit." Lucius Nepos's eyes narrow a bit as Zolor makes his pronouncement. Oh, how the good life was, before there was a Zahir on the throne. Oh well. Lucius manages to deal, in any case, remaining continuously still. Tomassa's shoulders relax the tiniest fraction, her eyes following the herald and Fionnlagh's movements to the parchment. Other than that show of interest, she seems rather impassive. "I hope you will send the headsman my kind regards, Majesty, as I shall be glad not to give them to him myself. Thank you, Your Majesty." He turns attention to the herald as the Emperor motions, eyes flickering over the parchment before taking up the quill. He scribbles his signature upon it, setting the quill down upon the tray before looking to the throne. Zolor Zahir nods as the herald steps back. "Very well." He smiles tautly at Tomassa. "If there's nothing further, Chamberlain, the hour is late." Tomassa lowers herself into a deep and elegant bow. "My thanks, my liege. Sleep well." Slowly, the woman straightens and glances back to regard Lucius with a somewhat cool expression. Lucius Nepos preps himself for the return of the guards and Chamberlain, offering a far bow to his highness. This should be good. Fionnlagh echoes Tomassa's bow, though he's already kneeling, rising only then to take up his prior position just slightly to the opposite side of her from Lucius quietly. Tomassa pauses by the pair of dungeon guardsmen. "If you would, please write a detailed report about what you witnessed, today," her mouth echoes Zolor's taut smile from a moment ago. "Especially the part about Nepos." Without waiting for the two men to reply, she turns to look at the man in question and the now-freed forester. "Lucius, will you take Kenneth to where the Blades bathe?" Lucius Nepos continues to keep up his front of neutral expression, Tomassa's speaking seemingly going unnoticed by the man until he is requested to do something. "Of course, your Grace. Follow me." The Marshal veers off to move down the stairs. Both guards bow in unison. "We will," the taller one rumbles. "Well we'll report it anyways. Neither of us write Lady Chamberlain." Tomassa's smile for Fionnlagh is faint and she nods to the guardsmen. "Have another write it for you, if you must," she suggests. "For now, I seek my own chambers to rest." The woman eases away from the small gathering, angling toward the stairs. Fionnlagh's smile flickers to life at that, a deep breath taken and then released. "But I was just starting to ripen," he offers, faux protest, in a quiet voice. Eyes twinkling just a touch. A breath, and he offers quietly. "Thank you, Your Grace. It means much to me." He leaves it...well...it...eager to get further from the throne before Zolor has a sudden pity on the headsman. "Of course your Grace," comes a rumble and a squeak. The guards turn toward the stairs after Tomassa heads off. Lucius Nepos's boots clank against the stares rhythmically as he descends. He says nothing to the two Guardians, and doesn't acknowledge them save for a nod. Category:Logs